


Coils

by futagogo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Bless Megaseed for their incredible ideas!, Fantasy AU, M/M, Naga, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22160143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futagogo/pseuds/futagogo
Summary: If Morty forgot his lesson with only one of Rick's hemipenes, then he would remember and slither crooked with both.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 12
Kudos: 209





	Coils

**Author's Note:**

> _First published January 7, 2020_  
>  Inspired by [Megaseed's](https://twitter.com/RickxmortySeeds) titillating illustrations (and headcanon) of Naga!AU Rick and Morty!  
> We had the opportunity to flesh out a drabble she'd written, and this is the final product!  
> Translation into 中文 available: [缠绵不休](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226941) by [coffeetheuawc42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeetheuawc42/pseuds/coffeetheuawc42).

Naga Rick sighed with contentment on the sun-warmed rock, daydreaming of his next meal. Perhaps some tasty roc's eggs. The spring flock on the eastern cliffs was just beginning to roost, and a big, fat egg would hold him over for the next fortnight. Yes, that'd do nicely. He could set off for the hunt and be back well before nightfall.

Just as soon as he was finished with the thieving little nympho currently squirming on his cocks.

His hands flexed idly on Morty's hips, tapping out the passing seconds with his claws as Morty writhed and panted, struggling to fit Rick's hemipenes into his tight cloaca. The hole, usually no bigger than Rick's thumb, was stretched wide around the dual invasion. Even the thin membrane that hooded the small opening had retracted to its limit, straining to accommodate the pair of throbbing, slick-coated shafts that skewered him.

It wasn't the first time they'd rutted, but each session still required patience—patience that Rick was often in short supply of. As he watched Morty fumbling, the very definition of ineptitude, his thoughts wandered in a rare bout of introspection.

It'd been nearly a month since Morty had first come slithering into Rick's territory, thinking to steal some of the alpha naga’s scent for himself. A dumb snakelet's wishful fantasy. No amount of aggression pheromones, self-administered or _borrowed,_ could change what Morty was: At barely half of Rick's impressive length, he was a scrawny thing with pale yellow scales and a warbling hiss. His diminutive stature and meek scent had cost him the respect of his Den, pushing him to go to extremes in search of a solution.

Too bad for him, Rick was not one to share. Not even his scent.

Despite his small size, Morty's heat signature had cost him any chance at a stealthy infiltration. His body warmth roused the old naga from his midday slumber, and within moments, Rick had trapped the would-be thief in a crushing embrace. He'd have squeezed the life from him then and there, if not for something that caught his eye. 

Holding the trespasser's face close to take in his golden eyes and scales, Rick had to admit he was a pretty little thing—in a good-enough-to-eat kind of way. And his scent, while uncommonly saccharine for a male, was no less pleasant for it. He sampled a taste of it from under the boy's chin, and a peculiar tingle of arousal shivered across Rick's brain. It awakened long-forgotten instincts that spoke of mates and hatchlings and—

Even now Rick had to snort at the thought of having ever entertained such ridiculous notions. 

He had never been one for companionship, having opted out of the tiresome game of procreation decades ago. His days were spent in solitary leisure, shunning his kind as much as they shunned him. But Morty's visit had broken the status quo. Because in spite of his bumbling, foolhardy naivete, there was something about him that Rick found _alluring._ He somehow managed to warm Rick's cold, reptilian heart much in the way a good meal warms one's stomach—or a nest-mate warms a nest. As Morty trembled in the presence of his captor, Rick's deadly constriction became a sensual caress and his hemipenes extended to their full length, fat and dripping, from their sheath. 

He'd still taught Morty a savage lesson that first day for his trespass, but at least he gave him the scent he so desired—just not in the way the little snakelet had expected.

Rick snorted huskily and his cocks swelled at the memory of their first rut. Morty was no skilled lover, but his desperate bucking made up handsomely for his inexperience. Once Rick had sated himself, he'd let his victim go, thinking the lesson—and the welcome distraction—over. 

But much to Rick's surprise, even before the bruises of his previous visit had faded, the thief was back in Rick's grotto. Rick took him again, rougher this time. If Morty forgot his lesson with only one of his hemipenes, then he would remember and slither crooked with both.

Rick had lost count how many lessons he'd doled out by now. It seemed to make no difference; Morty always returned, his docile scent brimming with desire. Their sessions had become a regular pattern between them, an unspoken ritual that Rick unknowingly came to anticipate.

Back in the now, Morty's hole finally closed over the base of Rick's cocks, spasming with the effort. He let out an airy keen, while Rick ground his own moan into an impatient hiss.

Fully engulfed in Morty's wet and sticky warmth, Rick resisted the urge to thrust. The need was overwhelming, and the vestigial claws at his pelvis pulsed reflexively with the instinct to clasp and control. But Rick was never one to give in to needs. After all, he didn't _need_ anything. A mighty naga like himself was perfectly capable of taking whatever he wanted—and right now, what he _wanted_ was for Morty to writhe for him. Dance for him. He wanted to watch Morty fuck himself on his cocks.

"Hurry up," he grunted, smacking Morty hard on his rump with one clawed hand.

It was just meant to be a playful slap, but the force must have been stronger than he'd intended, because in the next instant, Rick found himself suddenly nestled another few inches deeper inside of Morty. He didn’t think it was possible, but a new level of tightness enveloped him with a rush of sensation: a most exquisite suffocating pleasure. While Rick's head reeled, Morty's confused shriek accompanied a convulsion of his muscles down the length of his thrashing tail, unwittingly ensnaring himself more thoroughly on Rick's hemipenes.

Rick had just breached a deeper cavity within Morty's cloaca, virginal in its tightness and just as forbidden. Blinking himself back to attention, he looked down at the snakelet's belly where it had distended with an unnatural bulge. The mound pulsed in time with his heartbeat as though it cradled a living thing. As though it were brimming—

With eggs.

The sight of that swollen belly made something snap inside of Rick. After years of isolation, defiantly refusing his body's hard-wired demand to copulate, the perverse mimicry of impregnation sent a heady thrum of arousal through the core of Rick's serpentine brain. With a feral hiss, he finally took command of the snakelet squirming on top of him.

He no longer just wanted to rut; he needed to _mate._

Rick bodily rolled them both from the rock and onto the forest floor. Soft grass cushioned their fall, and the cooler air of the trees' shade kissed Rick's scales. But inside, he burned with an insatiable heat. His tongue flicked out to stroke Morty's cheek, and the fresh wave of pheromones it picked up there gilded his biological imperative to breed. Blue and yellow scales alternated in stripes as he helixed around Morty's slimmer form. Rick growled and pinned him to the ground under his crushing weight, hands around Morty's wrists. For all that their mating pheromones were addling his brain, a visceral rhythm guided his movements. His coils rolled from tip to hip, squeezing up the length of Morty in a relentless, undulating cycle as he buried himself impossibly deep inside of his lover.

Between growling huffs, Rick faintly heard Morty's gasps for him to stop. Tears were falling from his eyes, and his forked tongue dangled from between slack lips. His cries were nearly as sweet as his scent, and Rick clamped his mouth over Morty's, swallowing each pitiable sound as he forced his tongue inside to taste him.

The minutes passed unchecked during their union, every inch of them locked together in a caducean embrace. Tongues, arms, and tails were wound impossibly tight around one another as they tumbled across the forest floor. Sex pheromones coated their skin and spiced the air, each new inhalation softening the contours of reality and snuffing out anything else outside of each other. There was just this. Just the heat and friction and need to plant himself within Morty in a way that nature ordained as absolute. 

Morty's head lolled free of the kiss, his features glazed over in blitzed-out ecstasy. His chest fluttered like a dying bird as he continued to drink in Rick's scent. It was all he knew at this point. Meanwhile, his own petite candy scent had flourished into a heady cocktail that spiked Rick's brain like alcohol fumes, intoxicating and dizzying in its own right.

At last, their impassioned tangle reached a fever pitch, and Rick's entire body seized, going hard as stone. He reared back to let out a tremendous shout that spooked a flock of birds from the forest canopy. Every muscle of his powerful tail contracted, threatening to crush Morty, as his orgasm zapped through his system like an electrical storm before finally grounding itself in his hemipenes. The engorged shafts quivered and swelled, then finally burst forth a flood of carnal secretion.

Sometime during his climax, Morty had released his own seed, a pathetic but well-intentioned splash of white on Rick's belly. He lay sprawled, limp and silent, a string of saliva tethering him to Rick's heaving chest. 

A few half-hearted attempts to rouse the clingy runt did little good, and only a twitch at the end of Morty's tail indicated that he was still among the living. With that reassurance in place, Rick begrudgingly allowed the snakelet to bask in his peaceful afterglow.

An aftershock of pleasure rippled through Rick's body, and he could still feel the outline of Morty's organs and pelvis anchoring him firmly in place. His seed, having overflowed thick and plentiful, was beginning to pool at the point where they were still joined. If left like this for too long, the stuff would eventually congeal into a hard plug, and that would make extracting himself a bitch.

Still, Rick was far too drowsy to be bothered with that now. He was comfortable enough on the forest floor, and the band of sunlight that fell across them was luring the old naga ever closer to a pleasant afternoon nap. As he lay there, feeling the frantic gallop of their heartbeats slow in tandem, the sounds of the forest gradually came to life around them, and Rick thought again of eggs.

He huffed. _The roc's eggs,_ he clarified to himself. Logic took command in his mind once again, at last freed of its pheromone-induced fugue, and he afforded himself a rueful smile. So, even the _mighty_ Rick could succumb to the simple chemical reaction that compelled his kind to breed. He looked down at Morty's still form, marveling at how the unassuming snakelet could reduce him to this. As he coiled a finger around the dainty braid above Morty's right ear, he reflected on how there would be no eggs coming from their union, no hatchlings, nothing of any great significance. It was just a distraction. A way to pass the time.

Rick's eyelids grew heavy, and he yawned. _Just a way to pass the time,_ he mused again, readjusting his arms around Morty's warm and supple body. Every breath inhaled the remnants of Morty's scent, and just before he drifted off into sleep, Rick managed to spare one final thought:

Maybe he'd split tonight's egg with the kid. Just this once.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again, Seed, for this wonderful opportunity!
> 
> We hope you enjoyed, and let us know your impressions in a Comment. Or you can always get a hold of us on Twitter @futagogo or Discord at futagogo#9830.


End file.
